The Last Man Standing
by Tal Zehavi
Summary: Human AU. Basically a crossover between Battle Royale and Hetalia. Warnings: Character death, loads of violence, excessive use of OCs. Rated T because Battle Royale.
1. Prolouge

_Disclaimer: I do not (unfortunately) own Battle Royale or Hetalia. They belong to Mr. Takami and Mr. Himaruya, respectively. _

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><p>The Last Man Standing<br>A Hetalia and Battle Royale Crossover

Prologue  
>The room was eerily quiet as the man pulled a piece of paper out of the bowl.<br>On that piece of paper was written the name of the high school which was chosen to participate in this year's _Project._  
>"Gakuen Hetalia" the man read aloud, "Class 3-C".<p>

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><p><strong>Gakuen Hetalia- Class of 1998- Class 3-C- Name List:<strong>

**Boy #1:Beilschmidt, Gilbert  
>Boy #2: <strong>**Beilschmidt****,** **Ludwig  
>Boy #3: Bondvik, Lukas<br>Boy #4: Bonnefoy, Francis  
>Boy #5: Braginsky, Ivan<br>Boy #6: Carriedo, Antonio Fernandez  
>Boy #7: Densen, Andersen<br>Boy #8: Edelstein, Rodrich  
>Boy #9: Honda, Kiku<br>Boy #10: Im, Young-Soo  
>Boy #11: de Jaager, Abel<br>Boy #12: Jones, Alfred F.  
>Boy #13: Kikerland, Arthur<br>Boy #14: ****Oxenstierna****, Berwald  
>Boy #15: Steilsson, Emil<br>Boy #16: ****Väinämöinen****, Tino  
>Boy #17: Vergaras, Feliciano<br>Boy #18: Vergaras, Lovino  
>Boy #19: Wang, Yao<br>Boy #20: Williams, Matthew  
>Boy #21: Zwingli, Basch<br>Boy #22: ****Łukasiewicz, Feliks**

**Girl #1: Abe, Kimiko  
>Girl #2: Arlovskaya, Natalia<strong>  
><strong>Girl #3: Chernenko, Irunya<strong>  
><strong>Girl #4: Colbert, Anne- Marie<strong>  
><strong>Girl #5: Delprat, Paulina<strong>  
><strong>Girl #6: Densen, Alena<br>Girl #7: Ellstorm, Ädela  
>Girl #8: Héderváry<strong>**, Elizaveta  
><strong>Girl #9: Jokinen, Yolanda<br>Girl #10: Klein, Alexa  
>Girl #11: Lehto, Rika<br>Girl #12: Lupul, Bianca Maria**  
>Girl #13: Michel, Victoria<br>Girl #14: Nakamoto, Saya  
>Girl #15: Olden, Rachel<br>Girl #16: Peeters, Lana  
>Girl #17: Phan, Kim-Ly<br>Girl #18: Vogel, Erica  
>Girl #19: Yamamoto, Nori<br>Girl #20: Zimmerman, Hanna**

**42 students remaning. **

_To be continued...  
><em>

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><p><strong>A\N: Hey everybody! This is my first fanfiction, so hopefully it isn't too awful.<br>Anyhow, some clarifications regarding my choice of names:  
>Vogel Erica is Liechtenstein<br>Densen Andersen is Denmark  
>Steilsson Emil is Iceland<br>de Jaager Abel is the Netherlands  
>Bondvik Lukas is Norway<br>And the rest are my OCs :D  
>I don't know how often I'll update, but I will when I can.<br>Bye bye ^^**


	2. The Beginning-Part 0

_Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia or Battle Royale. I do this for fun_

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><p><strong><span>The Begining: Part 0<span>**  
>As the bus entered the sub-regional capital of Kyoto, Nihon, suburban garden and houses turned into neon lights and skyscrapers, busy streets and roads. People talked to each other as they waited for their ride home from work. Tired looking teens were smoking in a parking lot near a convenience store. Some guy on his motorbike waited for the traffic light to change. It was fairly chilly for May, so everyone was clad in jackets and scarves. Along with other city sites and noises, the man disappeared from the bus window, swallowed by the engine's quiet rumble.<br>The digital watch above the driver's head showed it was 8:57.  
>Arthur Kikerland (Boy #13, Third year class C, Gakuen Hetalia International School, Kumiyama Town, Sub-region Kyoto, Nihon region) had been staring outside, leaning over Alfred F. Jones (Boy #12), who, unfortunately, had the window seat.<br>As Alfred dug through his backpack, Arthur stared at his own left foot, which was in the aisle, and stretched his Converse All Starts with his toes. Once All Stars shoes weren't too difficult to find, but now they were extremely rare. The canvas on Arthur's left shoe was torn, and the stray threads stood out like weeds. The shoe company was American, but the shoes themselves were made in Peru. At present, 1998, the Great Empire of North East Asia and Europe hardly suffered from a shortage of goods. In fact it was quite rich, but imports were hard to come by lately. Well, it was only to be expected in an Empire with an official policy of isolation. Besides, America- both the government and the textbooks called them "the American Imperialists"- was a hostile state.  
>From the back of the bus, Arthur watched his 41 classmates, who were illuminated by dull florescent lights fixed on the buses dingy ceiling panels. They were the same class for 2 years now, all children of diplomats from all over the empire. They were all still excited and chatting away, since hardly an hour had passed since their departure from their hometown of Kumiyama. Spending the first night of a study trip on a bus seemed a bit cheap. Worse yet, it felt like they were going on a forced march. But everyone would eventually calm down once the bus got on Chiryu bypass and headed to their destination, the Oki Islands.<br>The loud students at the front who were sitting around their teacher Mr. Okamoto were girls: Nori Yamamoto (Girl #19) the class representative who looked good in a pony tail; Alexa Klein (Girl #10) her blond baseball teammate who was exceptionally tall; Yolanda Jokinen (Girl #9) the cheerful girl whose father was a government official in Finland; Victoria Michel (Girl #13) the model student with glasses; and Erica Vogel (Girl #18) who was mostly quiet and withdrawn. These were the mainstream girls. You could call them neutrals. Girls tended to form groups, but there weren't any to stand out in Gakuan Hetalia International School's Third Year Class C, so you couldn't really categorize them. If there was a group, it was the rebel – or to put it more bluntly – the delinquent group led by Natalia Arlovskaya (Girl #2). Elizaveta Héderváry (Girl #8) and Irunya Chernenko (Girl #3) rounded out that bunch. Arthur couldn't see them from where he was sitting.  
>The seats rights behind the driver were slightly raised, and popping up above them were the two heads of Berwald Oxenstierna (Boy #14) and Tino Väinämöinen (Boy #16), the most intimate couple in the Class. Maybe they were laughing, because their heads shook slightly. They were so insular, the littlest thing could have entertained them.<br>Closer to Arthur, lying in the aisle, was a large school uniform. It belonged to Matthew Williams (Boy #20). He was the biggest kid in class, but was very timid, the type that would usually end up the target of pranks and mean spirited jokes. His body was crouched over, and he was busy playing a handheld video game.  
>Also in the aisle were the jocks Lukas Bondvik (Boy #3, Handball team), Andersen Densen (Boy #7, Soccer team) and Emil Steilsson (Boy #15). They were all sitting together. Arthur himself had played little league soccer in elementary school and was known as a star shortstop. Actually he'd been friends with Andersen, but they'd stopped hanging out. Partly because Arthur stopped playing soccer, but it also had to do with the fact that Arthur had started playing electric guitar, which was considered "unpatriotic" activity. Andersen's mother was uptight about things like that.<br>Yeah, rock was outlawed in this empire. (There were loopholes. Arthur's electric guitar came with a government-approved sticker that read, "Decadent Music is Strictly Prohibited". Decadent music was rock.)  
>Now that he thought about it, Arthur realized he changed his friends too.<br>He heard someone laugh quietly behind big Matthew Williams. It was one of Arthur's new friends, Ludwig Beilschmidt. Ludwig had short blond hair and wore an intricately designed ring on his left ear. By the time Arthur and Ludwig became classmates in second year, Arthur had already heard of him. Ludwig was known as "der Schütze" – the team's frist-string shooting guard. His athletic skill was equal to Arthur's, though Ludwig would have said, "I'm way better, man." Together on the basketball court for the first time in their second-year class competition, they made for a deadly duo, so it was only natural they'd hit it off. There was a lot more to Ludwig than sports, though. His grades in subjects that weren't English and maths were not that great, but he had an incredible amount of practical knowledge and his views were mature, way beyond his peers. He somehow had an answer for any question about overseas information that he couldn't have obtained in the empire. And he always knew what to say when you were down, like, "You know it, I'm the man." But he was never arrogant. Instead he'd smile and crack a joke. He was never full of himself. Basically Ludwig Beilschmidt was a good guy.  
>Ludwig was sitting next to his buddy from grade school, Feliciano Vergaras (Boy #17), the class clown. Feliciano probably cracked another joke, because Ludwig was laughing.<br>Kiku Honda (Boy #9) sat behind them. His small figure was hunched as he was reading a paperback book. Kiku was reserved and studied martial arts, so he projected toughness. He didn't hang out with the other guys that often, but once you got to know him a little, he turned out to be pretty nice. He was just shy. Arthur was wondering if he was reading that Chinese poetry book he seemed to like so much. (They weren't that difficult to obtain, as China was claimed by the Empire as "part of our homeland.")  
>Arthur once came across an American paperback novel in a used bookstore. There was a line there that seemed to be quite relevant: "Friends come and then they go."<br>Maybe that's how things were. Just as he and Andersen were not friends anymore, there might be a time when he wasn't friends with Ludwig and Kiku anymore.  
>Well, maybe not.<br>Arthur glanced at Alfred F. Jones, who was still digging thorough his bag. Arthur had made it this far with Alfred F. Jones. And that would never change. After all, they were friends ever since they wet their beds at that Catholic institution with the bombastic name, "the Giving House"- where orphans or other children, who due to "reasons" were no longer able to be with their family. You could say they were almost cursed to be friends.  
>Yeah, we should probably cover the whole religion thing while we're at it. In fact this empire, under a unique system of National Socialism ruled over by an executive authority called "the Emperor" (Ludwig Beilschmidt once said with a grimace, "This is what we call 'successful fascism'. Where else in the world would you find such a sinister title?"), had no national religion. Now, that doesn't mean that Religious practice was outlawed. It was permitted as long as it remained moderate. Only dedicated followers would do so, and would do so in private.<br>Arthur himself never really had any religious inclinations, but it was because of the religious institution mentioned above that he managed to grow up into being relatively normal. He thought he should appreciate that. There were also state orphanages, but they were poorly run and used as training schools for the Special Defense Forces (SDF).  
>Arthur turned around and looked back. The delinquents Lovino Vergaras (Boy #18) and Yao Wang (Boy #19) were sitting on the wide seat at the end of the bus. There was also… Arthur couldn't see his face, but he would recognize the oddly styled, long hair that was poking out by the right window anywhere. On his left (well, it seemed that Lovino Vergaras had left two seats open in between) the others were talking and laughing over something. Probably over something dirty. Idiots.<br>The head remained completely still. Maybe he fell asleep. Or maybe, like Arthur, he was watching the city.  
>Actually, Arthur was quite confused by the fact that this boy – Ivan Braginsky (Boy #5) – actually came to a childish activity like a study trip.<br>Braginsky was the leader of the thugs in their town, a group that included Yao and Lovino. He was quite big, and he could pin down high school students without breaking a sweat, and once he even took on the local Yakuza. His reputation was legendary throughout the entire sub-region. And his father being an important figure in the Russian region didn't harm. (Though there were some rumors that he was a bastard, but Arthur never cared enough to find out more information.) As if that wasn't enough, he was also had a handsome, intelligent face and his low voice was quite intimidating. He was the top student in Class C, and the only one who barely kept up with him was Rodrich Edelstein (Boy #8), who studied so hard he rarely slept. In sports Ivan was better and more graceful that almost anyone else in class. The only ones in Gakuan Hetalia International School who could compete with him were the former star shortstop, Arthur, and the current star shooting guard, Ludwig Beilschmidt. So in every respect Ivan Braginsky was perfect.  
>But how someone so perfect could end up as the leader of the thugs? That really wasn't any of Arthur's business. But if there was one thing that Arthur could tell, it was that Ivan was different. Arthur couldn't quite put his finger on how. Ivan never did anything bad in school. He'd never bully someone like Matthew Williams the way that Lovino Vergaras did. But there was something so… distant about him. Was that it? Well that's how he felt.<br>He was absent quite a bit. The idea of Ivan actually studying was ridiculous. In every class Braginsky remained quietly seated in his desk and looked like he wasn't entirely there. Arthur thought, if the government wouldn't have forced us, he probably wouldn't even bother coming to school. On the other hand he might just show up on a whim. In any case, he expected Ivan to skip something as trivial as a study trip, but then he showed up. Was this a whim too?  
>"Arthur."<br>Arthur was staring at the ceiling panel lights wondering about Braginsky when a perky voice interrupted his thoughts. From the seat across the aisle, Francis Bonnefoy (Boy #4) offered something wrapped in crisp cellophane. The bag sparkled, and was filled with light brown discs, cookies. On top was a bow tied with a red ribbon.  
>Francis was a neutral boy, not fitting in any group. Other than his eyes, which were strikingly blue, he had long, girlish blond hair. He was petite and playful. In short, he was quite girl-like. He always wrote the best compositions in literature class. (Actually, that's how he got to know Francis. Arthur would spend break periods writing lyrics for his songs in his notebooks, and Francis would always insist on reading them.) He usually hung out with the girls from Nori's group, but because he showed up late, he had no other choice than to take the open seat.<br>Arthur half-extended his hand and raised his brow (He never got why people made fun of them. They weren't THAT thick.). For some reason Francis became flustered and said "Those are leftovers from the batch I made for my family. They're best fresh, so I brought some for you and Mr. Vieux there."  
>"Mr. Vieux" was Alfred's nickname. Francis claimed it meant 'Old' in his native language. It was given to him because his grandpa-ish glasses, but also because he was sometimes, oddly enough, mature and wise. No one called him that besides Francis, but he didn't seem to mind it too much, and Francis gave nicknames to almost everyone. (Arthur received the name 'Angleterre'. The rest of the world tended to refer to him as 'Eyebrows', though never to his face.) He also noted that Francis was also one of the only people to call him by his first name.<br>Alfred, who'd been listening in on them, interrupted. "Whoa! For us? Really? That's awesome! Thanks! I bet they're delicious, you made them after all."  
>Alfred snatched the bag from Arthur, untied the ribbon, and took a cookie out.<br>"See? Told you so!"  
>As Alfred praised Francis, Arthur grinned. Could he be more obvious? The moment Francis sat across the aisle he'd been glancing at him, sitting unnaturally straight, completely nervous.<p>

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><p>It was about a month ago during spring vacation. Arthur and Alfred had gone fishing at the city's water source. Alfred confessed to Arthur, "Hey Artie, I've got a crush on someone."<br>"Huh? Who is it?"  
>"It's a dude."<br>"Yeah I figured, you twat. Who is it?"  
>"Wait, you're OK with that?"<br>"Yeah man. Come on, spill the beans already! Who is it?"  
>"Are you sure you're Ok with that?"<br>"You're getting on my nerves, Alfred."  
>"Well I'm just a bit surprised that's all-"<br>"So help me God, Alfred, I will cut you if you don't tell me who it is in 5 seconds."  
>Alfred sighed.<br>"It's the French guy from our class… Francis."  
>"Was that so difficult?"<p>

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><p>Yeah, Alfred was being totally obvious. But in spite of his embarrassing behavior towards him, Francis seemed to be completely oblivious to Alfred's feelings. Maybe he was just slow about things like that. It wouldn't be surprising, considering his type of personality.<br>Arthur took a cookie out of the bag in Alfred's hand and examined it.  
>"So they lose flavor?"<br>"Uh huh…" he nodded, his eyes strained. Odd. "That's right."  
>"Which means you're sure they taste pretty good."<br>To the dismay of his classmates – well, maybe except for Ludwig – Arthur used sarcasm quite often. In that sense, he was horribly British. But Francis only laughed and said "I guess I am."  
>"Come on," said Alfred, his mouth full of cookie, "I told you they're good, didn't I? Don't you trust me?"<br>(Arthur considered telling him that his sense of taste was extremely questionable so no, he did not trust him, but he decided against that.)  
>Francis smiled. "You're too kind, Alfred."<br>Alfred all of a sudden froze as if he stuck his finger in an electrical outlet (a thing that happened quite often, sadly enough.) and turned mute. He blushed a deep shade of red and stared down to his lap, still devouring his cookie.  
>Arthur snorted and ate the rest of his cookie. The warm, sweet taste spread through his mouth.<br>"Damn, these are good." He smiled, "You Frenchmen sure know how to cook."  
>Francis, who'd been looking at him all this time, exclaimed "Thank you!" He could be mistaking, but his voice was different than the one he used with Alfred. Well… true he was staring at him while he was eating the cookie. Were they really leftovers from the batch he made for his family? Or maybe he made them for "someone else"? Or maybe he was just over thinking it.<br>Arthur took the bag of cookies from Alfred, who was still quite flushed. "Aren't you going to leave some for Francis?"  
>"O-oh yeah. Sorry man."<br>Arthur returned the bag to Francis. "Sorry about that. He's a bit dumb at times."  
>"It's ok, I don't mind. You guys should eat them all."<br>"Really? But we shouldn't be the only ones."  
>Arthur took his first glance at the guy sitting next to Francis. Wrapped in his school uniform, Gilbert Beilschmidt (Boy #1) leaned against the window with his arms crossed and his eyes closed. Maybe he was asleep. His white hair was cut very short, like a soldier's would be. When his eyes were open, they were the same shade of red as blood. Arthur once read about this type of condition in a biology book, but he never seemed to remember the name of it. Anyway, his appearance stood out.<br>Well, there were two things Arthur knew. For once, Gilbert was a year older than them. And due to some circumstance, an injury or illness (despite his condition, Gilbert seemed quite healthy, so Arthur assumed it was an injury), he had to repeat his third year in junior high because he wasn't able to attend school for over six months. The second thing was that he was somehow related to Ludwig.  
>Now, the latter was never confirmed, but it was quite easy to tell, really.<br>First of all, they shared the same last name.  
>Second, they had some physical similarities.<br>And third – which was the giveaway – the look on Ludwig's face when Gilbert walked in to the class on the first day of school and sat two desks away from him was absolutely priceless. They others didn't pay much attention to the new transfer kid, but Ludwig looked like he was punched in the face and was still in a bit of a shock because of that. Although Arthur never saw them exchange a word with each other, they always walked together to and from school. So from that Arthur had deduced that they were related. He just didn't know in what way.  
>Anyway, Arthur has yet to have heard a good thing about Gilbert. There was a rumor going around that he had been a notorious thug in his class, and that his hospitalization was a result of a fight. To support this rumor, his body was covered in scars. A long scar from what appeared to be a knife wound ran over his right cheek, and when they changed in the gym lockers (this was besides the point, but although Gilbert seemed scrawny he had quite a bit of muscles) Arthur was surprised to see the same type of scars on his back and arms. There were also two scars that looked like gunshots, but that would be ridiculous.<p>

Everybody thought that eventually Gilbert would fight Ivan. Right after Gilbert became a part of their class, Lovino Vergaras tried to intimidate him. Nobody really knew what happened after that, but apparently Lovino turned pale and went crying for help from Ivan. Ivan looked indifferent though, barely glancing at Lovino. Ivan didn't care for Gilbert. Gilbert didn't care for Ivan. So thankfully, they've managed to avoid conflict.  
>Everyone (with the exception of Ludwig) avoided Gilbert because of the age difference and the rumors. But Arthur didn't like judging people before he got to know them.<br>Arthur pointed his chin past Francis towards Gilbert.  
>"I wonder if he's sleeping."<br>"Hmm…" He glanced over at Gilbert.  
>"I didn't want to wake him up."<br>"He doesn't look like he's into cookies anyway."  
>Francis chuckled, and Arthur was about to as well, they heard "No thanks."<br>Arthur glanced back at Gilbert.  
>The strong, low voice echoed in his head.<br>Although Arthur was not familiar with the voice, it obviously belonged to Gilbert.  
>Apparently he was awake, though his eyes were still closed. It suddenly hit Arthur that he'd never heard Gilbert's voice before.<br>Francis glanced at Gilbert and then at Arthur. Arthur shrugged in response, and crammed another cookie to his mouth.  
>He continued chatting with Alfred and Francis.<p>

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><p>It was about ten when Arthur noticed there was something strange inside the bus. Alfred, to his right, had suddenly fallen asleep and was softly breathing. Ludwig Beilschmidt's body was slouching into the aisle, and Francis was also asleep. The bus was completely quiet. Everyone seemed to be sleeping. Well, to be fair, anyone who was health conscious would go to sleep now, but these were teenagers we're talking about. Wasn't it also a bit early-on in the trip to fall asleep? Why doesn't anyone play these obnoxious bus games? Doesn't this bus also have that annoying machine, karaoke? Why wasn't anyone taking advantage of that?<br>To make things worse, Arthur himself was feeling quite dizzy and sleepy. He looked around in his daze, but his head felt heavy. He slouched against his seat. His eyes managed to look at the rear-view mirror, and make out the tiny image of the driver's upper body.  
>The driver's body appeared to be covered with a mask. It resembled an emergency oxygen mask, the ones they have in airplanes.<br>So we can't breathe in this bus? Well… That's strange… Huh.  
>He heard scratching sounds on his left. Arthur had to struggle to catch a glimpse of what was going on. His damn body was just so heavy…<br>Gilbert Beilschmidt was standing up and trying to pry open a window. But no matter how much he tried, the window wouldn't budge. Gilbert slammed his left fist on the window. He was trying to break the glass. Why all the fuss?  
>But the glass didn't break. He was going to try again, but suddenly became limp and fell to his seat. Arthur thought he heard a low voice that sounded vaguely familiar say "Verdammt..."<br>Almost immediately Arthur fell asleep as well.

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><p><strong>A\N: Hello to everyone who might be reading this!<br>I hope you enjoyed this update, although it was really long~ Anyway, I don't know when I'll update next since school starts tomorrow, but hopefully It'll be soon ^^  
>I'd like to thank my one follower, you actually made me write sooner than I planned ^^""<br>Also, everyone, please feel free to review ^^  
>See ya!<strong>


	3. The Beginning- Part 1

_I do not own anything but my OCs. Also, I apologize for any odd phrasing. English is not my first language. _

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><p><strong>The Beginning: Part 1<strong>

For a moment, Arthur thought he was in his usual classroom.  
>It wasn't, of course, but it had the same worn out blackboard, a lectern, and on the right corner-a television. There were rows of desks and chairs made out of plywood glued to metal tubes. On Arthur's desk someone had carved anti-government graffiti into the corner with a pen: "The Emperor has a small cock." Then he noticed everyone at their seats, the boys in buttoned up school uniforms and the girls in their sailor suit school uniforms, all 41 students that have been just a few seconds ago (or so he thought) have been riding the bus together. They were all either sprawled over their desks or slouched against their desks, completely asleep.<br>From his seat in the middle of the room, Arthur surveyed the rest of it. Two seats to his left was Alfred. In the first row, closest to the hall window, sat Francis, and three seats from Francis was Ludwig. All of them were still asleep. Kiku was sleeping on his desk (that's when it dawned on him that the seating arrangement was identical to the one they had in school), in a desk positioned in the middle of the room. Then he realized why the room felt so odd: the hall windows, to his right, were covered with some kind of dark material. So were the other windows. It was impossible to tell what time of the day it was.  
>Arthur looked at his wristwatch. It read three o'clock. In the morning? In the afternoon? The date read "Tue5", which meant, that unless someone messed up his watch, either three or fifteen hours had passed since his drowsiness occurred.  
>Arthur looked at the rest of his classmates again. Something felt off. I mean, the whole situation was pretty strange, but there was something that particularly bothered him.<br>When he looked to his left he immediately realized what it was. To his left, face down on her desk, Bianca Maria Lupul (Girl #12) had a silver collar wrapped around her neck. Because of his shirt, Alfred's was barely visible, but Arthur had managed to catch a glimpse of it. Ludwig Beilschmidt, Kiku Honda, everyone had one.  
>Only then did he think to check his own neck for one. Unsurprisingly, when he touched his neck, he felt something cold and hard. He felt like he was suffocating. They put collars on us! Bloody collars! Like we were dogs! *insert colorful curse here*!<br>He fidgeted with it for a while, but decided to give up. He began wondering…  
>What was up with the field trip? He noticed that the sports bag he'd packed yesterday was on the floor under his desk. So did everyone else. His contained his clothes, a towel, a toothbrush and a flask of vodka.<br>Suddenly, the door opened with a mighty bang.  
>A man walked in.<p>

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><p>He was tanned and well built. He wore beige pants, a gray jacket, a white shirt and a red necktie, all looked worn out. A pink colored patch was attached to his jacket, indicating that he was with the government. He had very long hair, like a woman, but a light beard as well.<br>The man stood at the lectern and surveyed the class. His eyes stopped when he saw Arthur, who was the only one awake (assuming this is not some fucked up dream he's having).  
>The two stared at each other for almost a minute. But perhaps because the other students were waking up, and their panic filling the classroom, the man looked away from Arthur. The voices of the panicking teenagers woke up their classmates from their deep sleep. Nobody knew what was going on.<br>His eyes met Alfred's as the boy woke up. Arthur pointed at his collar, tilting his head slightly. Instinctively, Alfred touched his neck, his eyes widening in shock. He shook his head and turned to the lectern.  
>As soon as everyone seemed awake, the man started talking in an overly-cheery voice, "All right guys, ya'll are awake? I do hope you enjoyed your nap!"<br>No one answered him, for obvious reasons. Even the class clowns, Feliciano Vergaras and Anne-Marie Colbert (Girl #4) kept quiet.

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><p>Wearing a cheerful smile, the man with long hair continued behind the lectern, "All right, all right. I should probably introduce myself… Well I am Roma Minicucci, your new instructor.<br>The man who introduced himself as Roma Minicucci then proceeded to turn towards the blackboard, where he wrote his name both in Katakana and Latin letters.  
>What kind of a name is Roma anyway? Isn't it a region? It's like calling your kid Deutschland. I think Feliciano and Lovino are from there…. Huh.<br>Maybe it was a pseudonym, given the situation and all…  
>Suddenly, the female class representative, Nori Yamamoto, stood up and said, "Would you mind telling us just what the heck is going on here?" Everyone looked at her. With her long hair in a messy ponytail, she looked pretty distraught, but her voice remained assertive. Nonetheless, she probably deluded herself into believing that they've been through a traffic accident or something like that caused them all to lose consciousness.<br>Nori continued, "What's going on here? We were all in the middle of our study trip, right guys?"  
>She turned around and looked at everyone, setting off an avalanche of cries:<br>"Where are we?"  
>"Did you sleep too?"<br>"What's the time?"  
>"Shit I don't have a watch"<br>"Do you remember coming here?"  
>"Who the fuck is he?"<br>"I don't remember anything"  
>"Aw man, this sucks. I have such a headache…"<br>After observing Minicucci quietly listening to them, Arthur slowly surveyed the room. There were several others who remained silent.  
>The first one he noticed was sitting at an angle two rows in front of him. It was Ivan Braginsky. He merely stared at the man at the lectern. His look was calm, not resembling a glare like one would expect in this situation. He paid no attention to his circle of followers addressing him: Lovino Vergaras, Yao Wang, Im Young Soo (Boy #10) and Feliks Łukasiewicz (Boy #22).<br>The second one he noticed was Natalia Arlovskaya, sitting in the middle of the first row, exactly in front of Ivan. She looked jaded. Her seat was near one of her group members, Irunya Chernenko, but she wasn't looking at her, or paying any attention to her at all. Of course, none of the other girls, or boys when you think about it, would even attempt at talking to her. Although Natalia was certainly beautiful, she always wore a strange, lifeless expression on her face. She glared at Minicucci with her arms folded.  
>Gilbert Beilschmidt sat at the first row, by the window. He was also silently staring at Minicucci. But he took out a piece of gum and started chewing on it, never breaking his stare.<br>Six seats from Gilbert sat Francis Bonnefoy, still staring at him. His light eyes were trembling nervously. Arthur glanced at Alfred, who sat two seats from him, but Alfred was too busy talking to Abel de Jaager (Boy #10). Arthur immediately glanced back at Francis, and then nodded, as if to reassure him.  
>It seemed to work, for Francis looked calmer than before.<br>"All right all right, I guess I do need to explain why you all are here…" Minicucci clapped his hands a couple of times to grab everyone's attention. "The reason you're all here today is to…" He paused for a moment.  
>"…To kill each other."<br>No one said a word. Everyone froze like statues. But- Arthur noticed – Gilbert Beilschmidt still chewed his gum. His expression didn't change, although Arthur did catch the quick glance he sent over to Ludwig's direction.  
>Minicucci's smile grew even wider. "Your class was chosen to participate in this year's <em>'Project'.<em>"  
>Someone screamed.<p>

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><p><em>To be continued...<em>  
><strong>AN: Hey ^^  
>This chapter was a lot of fun to write, huehuehue.<br>Anyways, I apologize again for any odd phrasing. ****I may be good in English, but it's still not my mother tongue.  
>Hope you've enjoyed this update. I'm gonna try and update once a week, probably one Thursdays.<br>Thanks for your review, follower ^^ It made my day.  
>Who ever may read this, please review ^^ I love getting feedback :D Feel free to also criticize me, but please do so in a constructive, non mean spirited way. <strong>  
><strong>See ya!<strong>


	4. The Beginning- Part 2

_I do not own anything but the idea and the OCs. _

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><p><strong><span>The Beginning - Part 2<span>**

Every junior high school student in the Great Empire of North East Asia and Europe knew what the _Project _was. It was covered in school textbooks starting from the third grade. Each region (All 40 of them) had its own version of it. In the government issued dictionary, this was how the word "Project" was defined:  
><em><strong><br>"Project**__ n_.  
><em> that is contemplated, devised, or planned; plan; scheme .2 a large or major undertaking, especially one involving considerable money, personnel, and equipment. […] 6. A battle simulation program conducted by our Empire's ground defense forces, instituted for security reasons. Officially known as "Battle Experiment no. 79 Project". The first Project was held in 1937. Forty third-year junior high school classes are selected annually (Prior to 1940, 35 classes were selected) to conduct the Project for research purposes. Classmates in each class are forced to fight until one survivor is left. Results from this experiment, including the elapsed time, are entered as data. The final survivor of each class (the winner) is provided with a lifetime pension and a card autographed by The Great Emperor. In reaction to the protest and agitation caused by extremists, the 528<em>_th__ Great Emperor gave his famous 'August Speech'."_

The 'August Speech' is required reading in the last year of Shōgakkō. Here are some excerpts:

"My beloved friends working for the Revolution and building our beloved Empire. _[Three-minute interruption for the 528__th__ Great Emperor due to applause and cheers.] _Now then. _[Two-minute interruption.] _We still have petty imperialists prowling our Empire, attempting to sabotage it. They have exploited the people of other nations, betraying them, brainwashing them, and turning them into pawns for their own imperialist tactic. _[cries of outrage] _And they would jump at the chance to invade the soil of our Empire, the greatest revolutionary state in the world, revealing their malicious schemes to destroy our people! _[more cries of shock and outrage] _Given this dire circumstances, the Number 79 Project experiment is absolutely crucial to our nation. Of course, I grieve at the thought of thousands, tens of thousands of youth losing their lives at the ripe age of fifteen. But if their lives serve to protect our people's independence, can we not claim then that the flesh and blood they shed shall merge with our beautiful land passed down to us by the gods? _[clapping. Two minute interruption] _As you are all aware, our nation has no conscription system. The Army, Navy, and Air Special Defense Forces, all consist of patriotic souls, young volunteers every one of them, passionate fighters for the Revolution and the building of our Empire. They are risking their lives every day and night at the front-lines. I would like you to consider the Project as a conscription system unique to this country. In order to protect our Empire etc…."

But enough of that.

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><p>Arthur first heard about the <em>Project<em> before he became a sixth-grader. It was when he finally got used to the Giving House, where he was brought by his father after his mum passed away. Arthur thought it was when he was around four years old. He was watching television in the play room with Alfred F. Jones, who'd been in the Giving house before Arthur. His favorite superhero anime show had just ended and the current superintended of the institution, Ms. Sakura Nakamoto (the daughter of the former superintended; at the time she was probably still a college student, but everybody referred to her as Ms.) switched the channel. Arthur was gazing at the screen, but soon realized it was only that it was that boring show called "The News," the program they showed on every channel at various times.  
>The man in the suit was reading from his script. Arthur couldn't remember what he said but it was always the same and probably went something like this:<br>"We have received a report from the SDF and the government that the _Project_ of Nihon region has ended yesterday at 12:40 am. The subject class was Third Year G Class from Hiroshima No.6 Junior High School. The undisclosed location was Shidakajima Island, four kilometers away from Tadotsucho. The winner emerged after 2 days, 23 hours and 58 minutes. Furthermore, with the retrieval of the corpses and autopsies conducted today, the causes of deaths for all 43 students killed have been determined: 20 from gunshot wounds, 19 from knife or blade wounds, 2 from blunt weapons and 2 choked to death…"  
>An image of what appeared to be "the winner," a girl clad in a tattered sailor suit uniform came on the screen. Pressed between two SDF soldiers, she looked back at the camera. Under her short messy hair, some dark red substance stuck to her left temple. Arthur still clearly remembered how her twitching face occasionally formed what appeared to be, oddly enough, a smile.<br>He now realized now that this was the first time he had seen an insane person. But at the time he had no idea what was wrong with her. He only felt afraid, as if he'd seen a ghost.  
>He remembered asking Ms. Nakamoto "What is this, Ms.?"<br>Ms. Nakamoto only shook her head and replied "Oh it's noting." Ms. Nakamoto turned away from Arthur and whispered "Poor girl…" Alfred had already stopped watching a while ago and was preoccupied with eating his apple.

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><p>As Arthur grew older, the annual report felt more and more ominous. From a pool of all third-year junior high school students, forty classes were issued a guaranteed death sentence. That was 1680 students (assuming each consisted of 42 students), or more accurately, that was 1640 students killed annually. Worse yet, it wasn't just a mass execution. The students had to kill each other, competing for the questionable title of "the Winner." This was the most terrifying version of musical chairs imaginable.<br>But… it was impossible to resist the _Project, _as it was impossible to resist anything else in the Great Empire of North East Asia and Europe.  
>So Arthur decided to give in. That was how most of the third-year junior high students dealt with it, right? Okay, our special conscription system? Our beautiful land passed down to us by gods? The birth rate might be declining but your chances were still less than one in eight hundred. In Nihon region it was one class per year. Put it bluntly, you were more likely to die in a traffic accident than to be "chosen". Given how Arthur didn't have such terrible luck, he never thought he'd be chosen. Though in the local raffle he'd never win anything more than a box of tissues. But still, he never thought he'd be chosen. So fuck you, man.<br>But then sometimes he'd hear a classmate saying something like "My cousin was in the _Project_ and…" that dark fear would choke him up again. I mean, who had the right to take the life of that person?  
>But within a matter of days the same person who'd been gloomy would begin smiling. And Arthur's fear and anger would gradually wane and disappear too. But the vague distrust and powerlessness he felt towards the government nonetheless remained.<br>That's just the way things went.  
>And when Arthur entered his third-year in junior high school this year, he along with his other classmates assumed they would be safe. Actually they really had no choice but to assume this.<br>Until now.

* * *

><p>"That can't be."<br>A chair fell as someone stood up. The voice was shrill enough to make Arthur glance over at the desk behind Anne Marie Colbert. It was Rodrich Edelstein, the male class representative. His face was beyond pale. It had turned gray, providing a surreal contrast to his silver framed glasses, resembling one of those silkscreen prints by Andy Warhol illustrated in their art textbooks as "the decadent art of American imperialists."  
>Some of his classmates might've been hoping that Rodrich would provide some adequate rational form of protest. Kill the friends you were hanging out with yesterday? It was impossible. Someone's making a mistake here. Hey rep, can you take care of this one for us?<br>But Rodrich completely let them down.  
>"M-my father is a director of environmental affairs in Austrian government! How could the class I'm in be selected for th-the <em>Project<em>?..."  
>Due to his shaking, his tense voice sounded even more wound up than usual.<br>The man who called himself Roma grinned and shook his head, his long hair swinging in the air. "Let's see. You're Rodrich Edelstein, aren't you?  
>You must know what equality means. Listen up. All people are born equal. Your father's – or anyone's father – job in the regional government does not grant you any special privilege, understand? Listen up, ya'll. Ya'll have your own different background. But from what I understand, ya'll are children of diplomats, sent here as proof of their loyalty. But circumstances like that, which are not under your control, shouldn't determine who you are. You must all realize what you're worth, on your own. So Rodrich, let's not delude ourselves that ya'll are somehow special – because you're not!"<br>Roma bawled this out so suddenly, and Rodrich practically fell back to his chair. Roma glared at Rodrich for a while, but then his smile returned.  
>"Your class will be mentioned in today's morning news. Of course, because the <em>Project <em>must be held in secret, the details will be undisclosed until the game  
>ends. Now let's see, oh yea, your parents have already been notified."<p>

Everyone still seemed lost in a daze. Classmates slaughtering each other, that's impossible!

"You still don't believe this is happening to you, do you?"  
>Roma scratched his beard. Then he turned towards the door and yelled "Oi! I need you guys to come in!"<br>In response the door slit open and three men came running in. They all wore camouflage gear and combat boots. Their helmets, bearing the pink seal, were tucked under their arms. It was obvious that they were SDF soldiers. They had assault rifles strapped over their shoulders. Arthur could also see their semi-automatics holstered onto their belts. One of the soldiers was tall with spiky hair, giving the impression of someone frivolous. The other one was medium height, with a handsome, boyish- looking face. The last one wore a slight grin, but was eclipsed by the charisma of the other two. They were carrying a large, thick nylon sack resembling a sleeping bag. Various parts of the bag poked up as if it were stuffed with pineapples.  
>Roma stood by the window and the three men placed the bag on the lectern. Both sides of the bag protruded over the lectern, particularly the side facing the window, and dangled down. The contents inside were probably soft.<br>Roma announced, "Let me introduce these men who will be assisting you for the _Project_. Mr. Zhou, Mr. Cho, and Mr. Kim. Now why won't you show them what's inside?"  
>The frivolous one, Zhou, approached the lectern from the side of the hall, placed his hand on the zipper, and pulled the bag open. Something drenched in red liquid…<br>"AIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!"  
>Before it was fully open, one of the girls in the front row screamed and was immediately followed by the others. As the desks and chairs made a clattering sound, other voices asked "The fuck dude?!" and a soprano chorus swelled up.<br>Arthur held his breath.  
>He could see the body of the teacher in charge of class C, Masashi Okamoto, inside half the open bag. No, he was now their former teacher. Or in fact he was not the former teacher Mr. Okamoto.<br>His flimsy blue suit was drenched in blood. Only half of his large black glasses that earned him the nickname "Specs" remained. What could you expect, only the left half of his head remained. Underneath the remaining lens the marble like, crimson eyeball gazed absently at the ceiling. Gray jelly, what must have been his brains, clung to his remaining hair. As if relieved to be released, his left arm, still wearing a watch, poked out of the bag, dangling in front of the lectern. The ones sitting in the front might have actually seen the second hand ticking away.  
>"All right, all right, all right, settle down. Be quiet. SILANCE!"<br>Roma clapped his hands, but the girls' shrieking wouldn't subside.  
>Suddenly, the boyish looking soldier named Cho, pulled out his pistol.<br>Arthur expected a warning shot into the ceiling, but the soldier instead grabbed the bag containing Okamoto with his hand, and dragged the bag down from the lectern. He snapped Okamoto's head up to his face. He looked like a hero in a sci-fi flick fighting a giant bagworm.  
>The soldier pumped two bullets into Mr. Okamoto's head. The rest of Okamoto's head flew apart. The high powered bullets tore apart his brains and bones which formed a bloody mist and splattered all over the faces and chests of the students in the front row.<br>The echoes from the gunfire subsided. There was hardly any trace of Okamoto's head.  
>The soldier tossed Okamoto's body to the side of the lectern.<br>No one was screaming.  
><strong>42 students <strong>**remaining.**

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><p><em>To be continued...<em>

**A\N: Hey guys! Hopefully you'll enjoy this update ^^  
>Thanks for all the reviews so far! They really make my day!<br>Sorry for the kind of late update...  
>Thank you all for reading this~!<br>See ya next week ^^**


	5. The Beginning- Part 3

_I own nothing but my OCs and the plot.  
>"Once the game is over, the king and the pawn go back to the same box" -an Italian proverb<br>_

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><p><strong>The beginning- Part 3<strong>

Most of the standing students timidly returned to their seats. The uncharismatic soldier on the far side dragged the bag containing Okamoto's body to the corner of the classroom, and then joined the other two standing by the lectern. Roma returned to his position behind the lectern.  
>Once again the room turned silent, but their silence was soon broken by the sound of someone groaning in the back, followed by the damp splash of vomit splattering against the floor. Arthur could smell it.<br>"Listen up ya'll! As you can see, Mr. Okamoto vehemently opposed your class' assignment to the _Project_," Roma said, scratching his beard yet again. "Well, it was all so sudden, we do feel bad about it, but…"  
>The room grew silent again. Everyone now knew. This was real. It wasn't a mistake, nor was it a mean prank. They were going to be forced to kill each other.<br>Arthur tried to think clearly. The unreal situation put him in a daze. His mind was spinning from the horrible corpse of Okamoto and the role it played in this horror show.  
>They had to escape. But how?... That's right… first he'd meet with Alfred… Ludwig and Kiku… but how was the <em>Project <em>actually conducted? The details were never publicized. Students were given weapons to kill each other. That much he did know. But could they talk to each other? How did the government monitor this game?  
>"I…I…" Arthur's thoughts were interrupted. He looked up and opened his eyes.<br>Alfred F. Jones half rose and gazed at Roma, unsure, it seemed, whether he should continue. Arthur's body tensed. Please don't, Alfred!  
>"Yeeeeeeeeeees? What is it? You can ask me anything."<br>Roma offered a friendly smile, and like a puppet, Alfred continued, "I… don't have parents. So who did you contact?"  
>"Ah ha," Roma nodded. "I remember there was someone from one of the welfare institutions. So you must be Arthur Kikerland? Let's see, according to the school report, you seem to have dangerous ideas. So…"<br>"I'm Arthur," Arthur interrupted, raising his voice. Roma glanced at Arthur and then back at Alfred. Still in his daze, Alfred glanced back at Arthur.  
>"Oh, that's right. I'm terribly sorry. There was one more. So you must be Alfred F. Jones. Well, I contracted the superintendent of the institution where you were both raised. That's right… She was a beauty," Roma said and grinned. While his smile seemed to be cheerful, there was something disturbing about it.<br>Arthur's face tensed. "What the hell did you do to Ms. Nakamoto?"  
>"Well, like Mr. Okamoto, she was very uncooperative. They both didn't accept your assignment, so in order to silence her, well, I had to…" Roma continued calmly, "…rape her. Oh don't worry. It's not like she'd dead."<br>Arthur saw red. He leaped up, but before he could say anything, he heard Alfred scream, "I'LL KILL YOU!"  
>Alfred was standing up. His expression had changed, though. He'd always been so friendly to everyone.<p>

* * *

><p>No matter what happened, it was impossible to imagine him getting angry. His expression now was something he saved for those rare times he was truly angered. No one else in class might have ever seen him like this, but Arthur saw him this upset twice. The first time was when they were in the fourth grade and a car ran over the Giving House's pet dog, Toni, right in front of the gate. Frantically, Alfred ran after the fleeing car. The second time was only a year ago, when a man had been using the school's debt as leverage to come on to Ms. Nakamoto. After she managed to pay back the money, and thereby rejected his advances, the man cursed her out right in front of them, as if he wanted all the Giving House's residents to hear him. If Arthur hadn't stopped Alfred, the man would have lost his front teeth.<br>Alfred was extremely kind, and even when he was insulted or picked on, he usually laughed it off. But when someone he truly loved was hurt, his response was extreme. This was something Arthur admired about Alfred.

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><p>"I'll kill you, you fucking bastard!" Alfred continued, still screaming, "I'll kill you and dump your body into a pile of horse shit!"<br>"Hmm." Roma looked amused. "Are you serious, Alfred? You know one must be responsible for the things one says."  
>"Give me a break! I'm going to kill you, so help me fucking God! Don't you forget it!"<br>"Stop it, Alfred! Just shut up! Right now!"  
>Alfred paid no attention to Arthur's screaming.<br>Roma spoke in a strange, kind voice, as if to appease Alfred.  
>"Look, Alfred. What you're doing right now is voicing your opposition to the government."<br>"I'll. Kill. You." Alfred didn't stop. "I'll kill you I'll kill you I'll kill you!"  
>Arthur could no longer contain himself and right when he was about to scream again, Roma shook his head and waved his hands at the three SDF soldiers standing by the lectern.<br>They resembled a chorus group, like the Four Freshmen. The men in fatigues, Zhou, Cho and Kim, all lifted their right hands in a dramatic, emotionally charged pose. But their hands were holding guns. Now the chorus would have been something like "Baby please, baby please, spent this night with me~"  
>Arthur saw Alfred's bulging eyes open even wider.<br>The three automatic pistols exploded all at once. Just as he was stepping out into the aisle, Alfred's body shook as if dancing the boogaloo.  
>It happened so quickly that Tino Väinämöinen (boy #16), who sat right behind Alfred, along with the rest of the class, didn't even have time to duck.<br>The gunshot sounds hadn't even died down before Alfred slowly tipped over to the left and crashed between his desk and Rika Lehto's (Girl #11), banging his head against the desk as he went. Rika shrieked.  
>The threesome stood with their right hands extended. Thin smoke from each of their barrels simultaneously trailed upward. Arthur then saw in between the legs of the desk the familiar face staring at him. The bulging eyes remained open, fixed on him. A bright puddle of blood began oozing out onto the floor. Alfred's right arm began twitching down to his fingers.<br>Alfred!  
>Arthur stood up to run to him, but somehow Francis beat him to it. "Alfred!" he screamed and crouched down beside him.<br>Now Zhou, the frivolous one, aimed his gun at Francis and pulled the trigger. Francis tumbled forward as if he were swept off his feet and collapsed on top of Alfred, who continued to twitch.  
>Zhou immediately pointed his gun at Arthur. Arthur's mind was racing, but his body frozen. Only his eyes moved. He saw the blood spurting out of Francis' calf.<br>Roma said to Francis, "You will NOT leave your desk without my permission." Then he looked over at Arthur, "The same applies to you, Arthur. Now sit down."  
>Arthur did his best to take his eyes off from Francis' bloody leg and Alfred beneath her. He looked Roma directly in the eye. His neck muscles had tensed up from shock.<br>"What the hell is going on here?!" Zhou still pointed his gun at his forehead. Arthur remained still, bursting out, "What the hell are you doing?! We have to get some help for Alfred… and Francis…."  
>Roma grimaced and shook his head. Then he repeated, "Forget about it and sit down. You too, Francis."<br>Francis, completely pale from looking at Alfred lying underneath him, slowly looked up at Roma. She seemed overwhelmed with anger more than he was with the pain he must've been suffering from. He raised his head and glared back at Roma. "Please get some help." He spoke each word deliberately. "For Alfred."  
>Alfred's right arm continued to twitch. But while they watched over him the twitching subsided. It was evident his injury would be fetal unless he was treated immediately.<br>Roma sighed deeply, and then addressed the frivolous one, "Then Mr. Zhou, will you please take care of this."  
>Before they could figure out what he meant, Zhou pointed his gun downward and pulled the trigger. BLAMM.<br>Alfred F. Jones' head bounced up one, then something from his head splashed onto Francis' head.  
>Dumbstruck, Francis' mouth hung open. His face was covered with dark red substance.<br>Arthur realized his mouth hanging open too.  
>Although part of his head had been blown away, his bright blue eyes still remained focused on Arthur. He was no longer twitching, though. He was motionless.<br>"See?" Roma said. "He was already dying. Now then, please return to your seats."  
>"Putain…" Francis looked down at Alfred's deformed head. "Il en est ainsi foutu…"<br>Arthur was also stunned. His eyes were glued to Alfred's face, lying between the legs of the desk. His thoughts were completely paralyzed, as if his own brain was blown to bits. Memories of Alfred flashed through his dazed mind. The little adventures they took, camping or walking down the river, a rainy day spent playing an old board game, mimicking Batman and Superman, the heroes who, like themselves, didn't have parents. (Amazingly, the Giving house had a dubbed version of these movies. The voice actors sucked, though.), Alfred's face when he said, "Hey Arthur, I've got a crush on someone." And then…  
>"Are you two deaf?" Roma repeated. Yes, Arthur was deaf to his words. He just stared at Alfred.<br>Francis was no different. If they hadn't moved, they would have followed in Alfred F. Jones' footsteps. Right besides Roma, Zhou pointed his gun at Francis, while the other two pointed theirs at Arthur.  
>But it was thanks to a calm, in fact light-hearted voice calling out, "M-m-m-mister Roma," that Arthur was brought back to his senses, at least enough to gaze numbly at the caller.<br>Four seats from Francis' empty seat, Ludwig Beilschmidt had his hand raised. Francis slowly looked at him too.  
>"Hm? Let's see. You must be Ludwig Beilschmidt. What do you want?"<br>Ludwig put his and down and spoke, "Francis looks injured. I was wondering if I could help him back to his seat."  
>Despite the extremity of their situation, Ludwig spoke in the usual voice of der Schütze.<br>Roma raised his brow, but then nodded.  
>"All right, go ahead. I really want to get things moving."<br>Ludwig nodded, stood up, and walked towards Francis. As he approached him, he took out a neatly folded handkerchief out of his pocket and leaned between Alfred's corpse and Francis. He first wiped Francis' face, which was covered with Alfred's blood. Francis hardly reacted. Then he said, "Stand up, Francis," and put his hand under Francis' right arm to help him get up.  
>Then, with his back facing Roma, Ludwig looked at Arthur, who remained half-standing. Under his sharp, defined brows, his eyed always had a mildly amused look, were now dead serious. He raised his left brow and moved his chin, shaking his head slightly. His right hand pushed down, as if he were making a pressing motion. Arthur didn't understand this signal. Ludwig made the same move again.<br>Although still dazed, Arthur finally understood that Ludwig was telling him to calm down. He looked back at Ludwig… and slowly eased his way back into his seat.  
>Ludwig nodded. After returning Francis to his seat, he turned around and returned to his seat.<br>Francis sat down. Blood poured out of his left leg dangling from his seat. His white socks were now red, like the ones you hang in Christmas.  
>Francis was coming to his senses too. He seemed to be making a gesture to thank Ludwig. But as if he could see from his ears Ludwig shrugged his shoulders to stop him. Francis withdrew glared at Roma, tears in his eyes.<br>Arthur once again looked at the corpse, his view obscured by the desks. Yes, it was a corpse. There was no doubt about it. It was hard to comprehend, but Alfred had become a corpse, the corpse of someone whom he shared eleven years of his life.  
>As he looked at Alfred's gaping eyes, Arthur's anger became more pronounced and clear, like a throbbing pulse. The anger rushed through his body, so strongly his vision became blurry. His feelings, which had been muted by the initial shock, were beginning to surface. Arthur turned and bared his teeth at Roma.<br>Roma looked amused by Arthur. Arthur would never forgive him about this. He was going to kill the bastard. Even if it will be the end of him.  
>Arthur was one the verge of blowing up the way Alfred did. But then…<br>Ludwig Beilschmidt had intervened at the crucial moment, telling him to calm down… Arthur recalled how he got the signal from him only moments ago. That's right… of course if he blew up now he'd end up like Alfred… And more importantly – now the guy Alfred adored so much was severely injured. If he were to die now… what would happen to Francis Bonnefoy?  
>Arthur tried his best to tar his eyes away from Roma. He looked down at his desktop. He felt wretched, as if his heart were being crushed from anger and sadness that had no outlet.<br>Roma quietly laughed. He looked away from Arthur.  
>Arthur clenched both of his fists tightly under the desk in order to calm down his body which was shaking uncontrollably. He clenched them tighter and tighter. His knuckles were now completely white. It was no easy feat to control his emotions though, with Alfred's corpse lying right in front of him.<br>This was incomprehensible. How could it be? How could you lose someone…someone so close?

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><p>Alfred has always been with me. It doesn't matter how trivial our experiences were. What about the time we played in the river, and I saved him from drowning? Or when we got our kicks collecting tons of grasshoppers, stuffing then into a small box, and how they died as a result? We both felt bad about that. Or when we fought about for that dog Toni's attention? Or when we pulled a prank at school and ended up hiding in the faculty room attic? We almost got caught, but after we managed to escape, we had a good laugh…. Alfred and I were always together. It was a fact. He was with me.<br>So how could he be… gone now?

* * *

><p>Ludwig raised his hand again, "I have another question, Mr. Roma."<br>"You again? What is it?"  
>"Francis is injured. I understand we will be participating in the <em>Project<em>, but doesn't this make the game unfair?"  
>Roma looked amused.<br>"Well, perhaps, yes. So what is it?"  
>"Which means he should be treated, which means the <em>Project<em> should be postponed until her recovery, no?"  
>Arthur had barely managed to hold back his anger, so he was amazed by the contrast in Ludwig Beilschmidt's calm conduct. It was a bit strange that Arthur could afford to be impressed. Yes, Ludwig Beilschmidt was a lot calmer than Arthur. Ludwig was right. If Ludwig's request was granted, that might buy them some extra time. They might be able to escape.<br>Roma's face contorted into laughter.  
>"That's a very interesting suggestion right there, Ludwig."<br>Roma instead offered a different solution.  
>"Then shall we kill Francis Bonnefoy now, and make the game equal?"<br>Francis himself, along with the rest of the class, suddenly froze up again. Arthur could see Ludwig's back underneath his school uniform stiffen as he immediately responded, "I take it back. I take it back. Come one, I was just kidding."  
>Roma burst out laughing at Ludwig's humorous tone. Zhou, whose right hand that had been on his holster, quickly returned it to the strap of his rifle hanging off his shoulder.<br>Roma clapped his hands again.  
>"All right then, listen up. First of all, each and every one of you differ according to your intelligence, physical dexterity, etc. , etc. We're born unequal. So we will not treat Francis Bonnefoy – over there! No whispering!" Roma suddenly yelled. He threw a white object where Hanna Zimmerman (Girl #20) was in the process of whispering something to Rachel Olden (Girl #15), who sat in front of her. Arthur wondered whether it was a chalk for a moment, but of course that was absurd, given the subject.<br>Whatever it was, Rachel Olden managed to duck it, and it made a thumping sound of a nail being pounded into a coffin. A thin knife was planted in the middle of Hanna Zimmerman's wide, fair skinned forehead.  
>Rachel stared at the sight, her eyes open wide. A stranger sight though was Hanna herself raising her eyes, struggling to locate the knife planted in her forehead. Her head arched back in this attempt.<br>Then she collapsed to the side. As she fell, her left temple hit the corner of Matthew Williams' (Boy #20) desk and nudged it.  
>Now there was no room for doubt. Who could survive a knife planted in one's forehead?<br>No one moved. No one spoke. Rachel took a deep breath and looked down at Hanna. Francis was also gazing at her. Ludwig Beilschmidt kept his lips pursed as he looked at Hanna collapsed between the desks just like Alfred.  
>His throat dry, Arthur held his breath and thought, "HE DID THAT ON A WHIM! A WHIM! DAMN IT! OUR LIVES ARE TOTALLY AT THE MERCY OF THIS FUCKTARD ROMA!"<br>"Oops, I did it. I'm so sorry. The instructor killing someone, that's against the rules, huh?" Roma closed his eyes and scratched his head. But his face became serious again and he said, "I need your undivided attention. Impulsive actions are strictly prohibited. That means that whispering will not be permitted. It's hard on me but if you whisper, I'll toss another knife at you!"  
>Arthur clenched his teeth. He told himself to be patient and repeated this over and over to himself while two classmates were sprawled dead on the floor.<br>Still, he was drawn to Alfred's face and couldn't help but look at him.  
>He felt like crying.<p>

**40 students remaining.  
><strong>

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><p><strong>A\N:<br>...I am so sorry Alfred!  
>If it makes you feel better, I lost my voice a day or so after I finished writing the first version of this chapter. Karma?<br>I've decided to upload this early! Yey!  
>The plot thickens honohonhonhon<br>Again, I'd like to thank whomever reviews this story, it seriously makes my day and motivates me to write. Please feel free to review, even if you're not planning to follow this story ^^  
>This chapter was a rather hard one for me to write, but if was fun nonetheless... (I apologize for any grammarspelling/phrasing mistakes. English is not my first language.)  
>Thank you all for reading this! See ya soon!<br>**


	6. The Beginning- Part 4

_I own nothing but the OCs and the plot. _

* * *

><p><strong>The beginning- Part 4<strong>  
>"Allow me to explain the rules."<p>

* * *

><p>Roma's cheerful voice returned. The classroom began to reek of Alfred F. Jones' fresh blood, an entirely different odor than the one of dried blood that came from their instructor, "Specks" Okamoto. Arthur couldn't see Hanna Zimmerman's face from his seat, but it seemed like there was very little blood coming out of her.<p>

* * *

><p>"I think ya'll know how this works. The rules are quite simple, actually. All you have to do is kill each other. There are no violations. And," Roma wore a wide grin, "the last remaining survivor gets to go home! You can even get a nice autographed card from the Emperor! Isn't that great?"<br>Arthur caught Ludwig shooting a quick glance towards Gilbert Beilschmidt.  
>"Now you may think this is a horrible game. But in life the unexpected is bound to happen. You must at all times maintain self-control in order to respond properly to accidents. Consider this an exercise. Also, men and women will be treated equally. There will be no handicaps for either side. I do have good news for the girls, though. According to <em>Project <em>statistics, 52% of past winners have been girls. The motto here is, 'I'm just like the others and the others are like me.' There is nothing to be afraid of."  
>In his mind, Arthur was spitting on Roma's stupid face.<br>Roma made a signal. The camouflaged trio went into the hall and began to haul in the large, gray, nylon day packs. The packs formed a pile right beside the body bag of Mr. Okamoto. Some of them were lopsided, as if they might contain a pole-shaped object that was trying to poke out.  
>"We will have you leave one by one. Each one of you will take one of these bags prior to departure. Each pack contains food, water, and a weapon. Let's see, as I've said, every one of you differs according to ability. So these weapons will add another random element. Well, that sounds complicated. In other words, it will make the game all the more unpredictable. You will each end up with a randomly selected weapon. As you leave in order, you will take the pack on top of the pile. Each pack also contains a map of the island, a compass, and a watch. Are there any of you that don't have watches? You all do? Oh, I forgot to mention this before, but you are on an island with an approximate circumference of seven kilometers. It's never been used for the <em>Project<em>. We had the residents evacuate the island. So there is absolutely no one else here. So…"  
>Roma faced the blackboard and grabbed a chalk. He drew a rough upside down triangular shape next to where he wrote his name, "Roma Minicucci." Near the triangle, he drew an arrow pointing upwards and wrote the letter "N" underneath it. He wrote an "X" inside the triangle, a few centimeters away from its lower tip. With the chalk still pressed against the blackboard, he turned towards the students.<br>"All right then. We're in the school on this island. This is a diagram of the island, so this indicates the school. Got it?" Roma tapped the symbol with his chalk. "I'm going to be staying here. I'll be overlooking your efforts."  
>Roma then drew four spindle shapes scattered around the north, east, south and west sides of the triangle.<br>"These are ships. They are there to kill anyone attempting to escape by sea."  
>Then he drew parallel vertical and horizontal lines over the island. The triangle indicating the island resembled a warped grill now. Starting from the top-left, Roma wrote markers on each grid, "A=1", "A=2"… in order. The next row read, "B=1", "B=2", etc.<br>"This is just a simplified diagram. The map inside your packs will look something like this." Roma placed his chalk down and clapped his hands to clear off the dust.  
>"Once you leave the premises, you are free to go anywhere. However, announcements will be made across the entire island at the hours of twelve and six, in the morning and at night. That's four a day. I'll be referring to this map when I announce the locations of zones that will be forbidden after a certain time. You must examine your maps closely and check your compasses against them. If you are in a forbidden zone you must clear out of the area as soon as possible. Because…"<br>Roma put his hands on the lectern and looked at everyone.  
>"… of the collars around your necks."<p>

Until he has made this remark, several students have failed to notice the collars. They touched their necks and looked shocked.

"That device is the result of the latest technology development by our Empire. It is 100% waterproof, anti-shock, and uh-uh-uh, no, no, it can't come off. It won't come off. If you try to pry it loose…," Roma took a small breath, "…it will explode."  
>Several students who had been fingering their collars immediately released their hands.<br>Roma grinned. "The collar monitors your pulse in order to verify signs of life and transmits this information to the mainframe at this school. It also pinpoints your exact position on the island for us. Now, let's return to the map."  
>Roma swung his left arm back and pointed to the map on the blackboard.<br>"The same computer will also randomly select forbidden zones. And if there are any students left in the zone after the designated time – of course dead students won't matter – the computer will automatically detect anyone alive and immediately send a signal to his or her collar. Then…"  
>Arthur knew what he would say.<br>"That collar will explode."  
>He was right.<br>Roma paused for a moment to examine everyone. Then he continued, "Why would we do this? Because if everyone huddled up in one spot, the game wouldn't proceed. So we will make you move. Simultaneously, the area you can move around in will shrink. Got that?"  
>Roma called it a game. No wonder, really. It was fucking outrageous. No one said a word but everyone seemed to get the rules.<br>"All right, so that means hiding in a building will do you no good. Even if you hide in some hole you dug in the ground the transmission will reach you. Oh and by the way, you are free to hide in any building but you won't be able to use the phone. You won't be able to contact your parents. You have to fight on your own alone. But that's how life is anyway. Now I did say that the game will begin without forbidden zones, but there is one exception: this school. Twenty minutes after your departure this school will become a forbidden zone. So please first get out of the area. Let's see, you must be two hundred meters away, got that? Now, in my announcements I will also read off the names of those who have died in the past six hours. Each announcement will be made regularly at six-hour intervals, but I'll also be contacting the last remaining survivor by announcements as well. Oh… and one more thing. There is a time limit. Listen up. A time limit. A lot of people die in the _Project_, but if no one dies within twenty-four hours then your time's expired, and it won't matter how many students are left…"  
>Arthur knew what he would say.<br>"The computer will detonate the collars of the remaining students. There will be no winner. "  
>Yet again, he was right.<br>Roma stopped talking. The entire classroom had become silent. The room was still reeking with the heavy stench of Alfred F. Jones' blood. Everyone remained in their collective daze. They were scared, but this situation they were about to get thrown into – a one where they had to kill people – seemed beyond their comprehension.  
>As if responding to their general state of mind, Roma clapped his hands. "Well, I've covered all the tedious details. Now I have something more important to tell you. A piece of advice. Some of you might be thinking that murdering your classmates is impossible. But don't forget there are others willing to do so."<br>Arthur wanted to scream. He's so full of crap! But with the Hanna-Zimmerman-executed-for-whispering incident only moments in the past, he could only stay put.  
>Everybody remained silent, but something had suddenly changed and Arthur knew it.<p>

* * *

><p>Everyone was looking around, glancing at each others faces. Whenever anyone's gaze met, their eyes would nervously turn towards Roma. It only happened within a matter of seconds, but their expressions were exactly the same: they were tense and suspicious, wondering who was already to take part. Only a few, Like Ludwig and Gilbert Beilschmidt remained calm.<br>Arthur clenched his teeth again. You're falling into their trap! Think about it, we're a group. There's no way we could kill each other!  
>"All right then, I need to make sure you get my point. You'll find some paper and pencils in your desks."<br>Everyone took out their paper and pencils. Arthur had no choice but to follow his instructions.  
>"Now then, I want you to write this down. To memorize something, it's best to write it down. Write this. 'We will kill each other.' Write it three times in your native language, and then three times in Japanese."<br>Arthur heard the pencils scribbling against the paper. Francis too held his pencil, looking morose. While Arthur wrote out this insane motto, he glanced at Alfred F. Jones' body, which remained lying between the desks. He recalled Alfred's warm smile.  
>Roma continued, "Okay then. 'If I don't kill, I will be killed.' Write it down three times in your native language and in Japanese as well."<br>Arthur glanced over at Hanna Zimmerman. Her white fingers poking out of the cuffs of her sailor suit uniform gently formed a bowl. She was the nurse's aide. She was quite and caring.  
>Then he looked up at Roma.<br>Fucking arsehole. I'll stab you in the chest with a pencil.

**40 students remaining.**

* * *

><p><em>To be continued... <em>


	7. The Beginning- Part 5

_I own nothing but the plot and my OCs. _

* * *

><p><strong>The Beginning Part 5<strong>

"Now then, let's see, every two minutes one of you will be leaving the classroom. Once you go through the door and turn right down the hall you'll find the school exit. You are to leave immediately. Anyone hovering around the hall will be shot immediately. Now, who do we start with? According to the rules of the _Project_, once we determine the first person, the rest of the order will correspond to your classroom seating assignment. Male, female, male, female, got that? Once we reach the last seat number, we start over from the first number. So…"  
>At this point, Arthur recalled that Francis' number was 4. Not even close to his (13). Which meant Francis would either leave way before Arthur or way after him. But… could Francis even walk?<br>Roma took out an envelope from his inner coat pocket.  
>"The first student is selected by lottery. Hold on a second…"<br>From his pocket Roma produced a pink-ribboned pair of scissors and ceremoniously cut open the end of the envelope.  
>That was when Ivan Braginsky spoke up. Like Ludwig Beilschmidt, he sounded calm. But his voice sounded cold with a harsh ring. "I was wondering when the game begins, da?"<br>Everyone looked at the second row, where Braginsky was sitting. (Only Gilbert Beilschmidt didn't. He just continued to chew his gum.)  
>Roma gestured with his hand, "As soon as you leave the building. So you all want to hide out to cook up your own strategies…. Since it's night right now."<br>Ivan Braginsky didn't respond. Arthur finally confirmed it was near 4 a.m.  
>After cutting open the envelope Roma pulled out from it a white sheet of paper, and he unfolded it. His mouth quirked in to a smirk. "Well isn't this fun! It's student #2, Ludwig Beilschmidt!"<p>

* * *

><p>Hearing the announcement, Ludwig seemed indifferent, and only looked at Gilbert Beilschmidt, who had stiffened in his chair. If it was even possible, the resentment in the latter's glare intensified.<br>"Come on, let's get the show on the road! Hurry up!" Roma said. Ludwig stood up and picked up the bag he packed for the study trip, and turned towards Gilbert. Then he spoke.  
>"Wir sehen uns am Ende dafür, Bruder."<br>And for the first time since he transferred to their class, Gilbert uttered a full sentence at everyone's presence.  
>"Ja. Pass auf dich auf. Führen."<br>"Enough with the chit chat. Ludwig, go get your day pack and leave" Roma interrupted. Ludwig nodded and headed towards the camoflaged trio, who tossed his day pack at him. He stood at the open door and faced the darkness. He then looked back at everyone, winked, and vanished beyond the door.  
>In the quiet room, several students took a deep, restrained breath.<br>"Now we will wait two minutes. Then the next one will be Girl #2, Natalia Arlovskaya-"  
>The routine continued ruthlessly like this.<br>Then came Francis' turn to leave. He stopped whatever he was doing, stood up – albeit with some difficulty – and looked straight at Arthur. He then nodded and proceeded to limp towards the camouflaged trio, where a day pack was tossed at him.  
>Arthur wondered what that look meant.<p>

* * *

><p>He thought, I have no idea what lies beyond this room but I should at the very least try and look for some of the students, talk to them. None of Roma's rules prohibit me from doing this. Everyone might be panicking from suspicion, but if we can just get together and discuss this situation them I'm sure we can come up with a plan. Plus, he needs to look afer Francis, to see that he's alright.<br>Arthur considered passing a note to Kiku but his seat was too far. Besides, if he tried anything, he might end up like Hanna Zimmerman.  
>Kiku Honda was up next. His eyes met Arthur's for a brief moment right before he left the room, but that was it. In his mind, Arthur sighed. He could only hope that Kiku had the same mindset as him, and would be waiting outside. If he could talk the others into waiting too...<p>

* * *

><p>The quiet ones, Ivan Braginsky and Natalia Arlovskaya left quietly, completely ignoring the camouflaged trio. Gilbert Beilschmidt was still chewing his gum.<br>That's right. When Roma said, "There are others willing to do it," the rest of the class must've suspected these three. Because they were "delinquents." They might not think twice about killing others in order to survive...  
>But Arthur doubted Ivan Braginsky would. Ivan had his own gang. On top of that, his gang was a lot tighter than your typical group of buddies. Im Young Soo, Lovino Vergaras, Yao Wang, and Feliks Łukasiewicz. The rules of the game turned everyone else into your enemy, but the five of them killing each other seemed impossible. Besides – Arthur made a careful note of this – when Ivan left, his boys looked disturbingly calm. That's right, Ivan probably passed a note to the others. He's probably planning an escape for the five of them. Ivan was more than capable to manipulating the government. Of course, that would also mean that he'd trust no one but his gang.<br>Natalia Arlovskaya had a similar group. Her seat was near Irunya Chernenko's, but she didn't seem to pay any attention to her. The third member, Elizaveta Héderváry, sat too far away in order to pass notes. But Arthur doubted that she'll play the game.  
>Gilbert Beilschmidt was the one who troubled Arthur the most. Gilbert Beilschmidt had no group. In fact, if you don't consider the relation he has to Ludwig (whatever it may be), he did not have a single friend. Ever since he transferred to their school, he hardly spoke to anyone in class. On top of that, there was something elusive about Gilbert. Even if he ignored the rumors, there were those scars all over his body...<br>Could it be that… Gilbert might be the one willing to participate in the game? It was possible.  
>But Arthur knew the moment he turned suspicious he was giving into the government, so he immediately dismissed the thought… though he had trouble dismissing the thought entirely.<p>

* * *

><p>Time passed.<br>Some girls cried as they left.  
>Although it felt incredibly short, an hour must have passed according to his calculations (of course with Alfred F. Jones the elapsed time was reduced by two minutes).<br>Girl #12 Bianca Maria Lupul vanished into the hall, and Roma called out, "Boy #13, Arthur Kikerland."  
>Arthur grabbed his bag and stood up. He thought, I did all I could before leaving this damn classroom.<br>Instead of heading straight to the exit, he turned left, towards where Alfred's corpse was.  
>Roma raised his voice, "Arthur," and his knife. "Wrong direction."<br>Arthur stopped. The trio had their rifles cocked. Then he said nervously, "Alfred F. Jones was my friend. The least I could do is close his eyes. According to the Great Emperor's education policy, we're supposed to respect the dead."  
>Roma hesitated for a moment, but then he grinned and put his knife down.<br>"You're so caring, Arthur. All right then."  
>Arthur took a small breath, and then stepped forward, to where the corpse was lying.<p>

* * *

><p>Although he'd demanded the right to close his friend's eyes, he couldn't help but freeze up.<br>Now that he was up close he saw, courtesy of the frivolous one, thin, red flesh and something white in Alfred's blood stained blond hair. He realized it was a bone. Thanks to the bullets wedged inside his head Alfred's eyes bulged out more than usual. He looked stupefied with the upturned eyes of a starving refugee waiting to be fed. Pink, slimy liquid consisting of blood and saliva dripped out of his mouth, which was slightly open. Dark blood poured out of his nostrils. It flowed down his chin and into the pool of blood pouring out of his chest and gut. It was terrible.  
>Arthur placed his bag near him and leaned over. He lifted Alfred's body, which was lying down face first. As Arthur lifted him, blood came pouring out of his chest and splashed on to the floor. His lanky body felt light. Was it because of all the blood that had been drained out of him?<br>Holding Alfred's light body, Arthur's head cooled down. More than sadness or fear, it was anger that overwhelmed him.  
>Alfred… I'm going to avenge your death. I swear to you I will.<br>There wasn't much time. He wiped the blood off of Alfred's face with the palm of his hand, and then gently closed his eyes. He laid his body down and clasped his hands on his chest.  
>He picked up his bag and started heading towards the camouflaged trio. On his way, he noticed a note on Francis' desk. Remembering the look Francis gave him earlier, he picked the note up and continued walking like nothing happened. He noticed that Gilbert was looking at him, grinning. It made him uneasy, to say the least.<br>He continued to walk. He took a moment to think before receiving his day pack; this was really it, wasn't it?  
>He thought maybe he should approach Hanna Zimmerman's body, maybe take the knife out of her forehead, but decided not to.<br>When he stepped out of the classroom, he felt a pang of regret, wishing he had removed it for her.

**40 students remaining.  
><strong>

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><p><strong>AN: What's this?! A DOUBLE UPDATE?!  
>Yes my friends, I was feeling extra productive this week and wrote two whole chapters!<br>From this point on, no one is safe. The game has begun!  
>-evil cackling-<br>Hopefully you've enjoyed this update. Please feel free to review, they make my day.  
>See you next week~!<br>**


	8. The Game-Part 0

**The Game – Part 0**

* * *

><p>The hall lit with cheap florescent lights. The windows on the side of the hall were sealed with sheets of black steel. They provided protection against attacks from rebellious students like Arthur who might decide to escape the game. Of course, as soon as they were off, this area would already be forbidden.<br>He looked left. There was another room, then another, both identical to the one he just left. And then at the end of the hallway there was a double-door exit. Next to it, to the right, was another room.  
>Was this the faculty room? The door was open and the light was on. Arthur looked beyond the door, where a legion of SDF soldiers were sitting on plastic folding chairs behind a wide desk. Arthur figured that there were as many soldiers as there were students.<br>Arthur was hoping that his day pack came equipped with a gun (it was very much possible- alongside with 'knife wound' and 'chocking', 'gunshot' was always listed as a cause of death in the_ Project_ reports), or if some of the others waiting for him were equipped with guns, then they could use them against Roma and his men before everyone departed, in other words, before it became a forbidden zone. Of course, this was not an option anymore, as the three soldiers with Roma weren't the only ones there, which wasn't that surprising, now that he thought about it.  
>He glanced at his left hand, which held the note from Francis' desk. He unfolded it and read 'I'll be waiting outside'.<br>So Francis was waiting for him outside of this school. Better hurry on then.  
>One of the soldiers in the faculty room tilted his head and glanced up from his mug. Like the threesome in the classroom, his face was expressionless.<br>Arthur took to his heels and hurried towards the door. He rushed impatiently. So now… now he has to find Francis. The note said that he'd be waiting outside, but… but what if there were soldiers stationed outside in order to prevent them from waiting for each other? Still…  
>Arthur quickly ran through the double doors.<p>

* * *

><p>"Angleterre!"<br>To his left, Francis was crouching. They were on a small porch, in front of them an empty athletic field the side of three tennis courts spread out. There were woods beyond the field. To his right pitch-black darkness spread out- the sea. Small points of light twinkled beyond the ocean. Beyond the woods seemed to be a small mountain.  
>God knows where the hell they were. The <em>Project<em> could take place just about anywhere in the empire, and it almost never was in the region the class came from, in order to make the competition more interesting-which means they were probably out of Nihon right now. The contestants from Nihon were almost always thrown on an island somewhere – because they're an island nation, get it? – but the _Project_ could be held anywhere. In the western parts of the empire, for example, they were often put atop a mountain surrounded by high-voltage fences. In the more central areas, it was usually some abandoned prison houses that had yet to be demolished. In the north it would take place in a snow-field, etc. etc.  
>Roma didn't mention the name of the island, or even where it was, but once Arthur checked out the map, he might be able to tell. Or maybe a building would reveal the name of it. He knew how to read English, Japanese, Korean and Chinese – the languages they taught in school - so he hoped they're in one of the places that actually spoke these languages.<br>A soft breeze blew in. He could smell the sea. It was chilli. They'd have to be careful when they sleep not to tire themselves from exposure.

* * *

><p>"I thought I asked you not to call me that."<br>"I'll call you however I damn please. And you didn't. Now lower your voice. There's someone on the roof."  
>"What? How do you know that?"<br>Francis tilted his head to the right. On the ground was something that looked like a garbage bag. For a few seconds Arthur thought it was someone's daypack, but soon came to the grim realization that it wasn't.  
>There was hair growing from one end. Human hair. It was a human being. Wearing a sailor suite school uniform. The body was in a V-shape, lying on its side, face down. The single pony tail tied with a wide ribbon looked familiar. No wonder. He'd only seen her off three minutes ago.<br>The stiff body belonged to Girl #12, Bianca Maria Lupul.  
>Right beside her pony tail, a dull, silver, twenty-centimeter stick poked out of the back of her uniform, diagonally, like a transistor radio antenna.<br>There were four tiny flaps resembling a fighter plane's tail at the end of the stick.  
>What. The. Fuck.<br>Arthur stood there, stunned, and recalled Roma's replay to Braginsky, who asked when the game began: "As soon as you leave here."

**39 players remaining.  
><strong>

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><p><strong>AN: Hey guys! Short update this time, I was too busy studying for tests to write something long and awesome ;;  
>Hopefully you've still enjoyed it ^^<br>Anyway, please follow and feel free to review!**

[P.S- Thought I'd give you a heads up about it- in two weeks (December 4th) there will be no update, because I'm on a week long school trip.  
>(Hopefully we will not kill each other off by the end of it... Although we will be taught how to use guns... I promise nothing.)<br>Anyway, if I come back alive, I promise an awesome\double update the following week.]


	9. The Game-Part 1

_I own nothing but the plot and my OCs. _

* * *

><p><strong>The Game- Part 1<strong>

It was unbelievable – who could've done this?  
>Did someone return to kill Bianca Maria Lupul just as she left the school?<p>

* * *

><p>Arthur stopped speculating and cautiously crouched down and checked the premises.<br>After a moment Arthur realized that Bianca Maria Lupul might still be alive. She might just be unconscious from the blow. He decided to go check her out, and maybe also figuring out who the killer was. He told Francis his plan. He looked reluctant, but still nodded in agreement.  
>If he wouldn't have known the killer was camping on the roof and restrained himself, Arthur would have dropped out of the game earlier than planned. In other words…<br>A silver object whizzed right by Arthur's eye. It came from above, confirming that the attacker was indeed on the roof. Another antenna was planted in the ground.  
>Arthur shuddered. If he hadn't been standing at the exit with Francis, he would've been immediately shot down.<p>

* * *

><p>He clenched his teeth, snatched up the arrow, and ran to his left. He moved impulsively but in an erratic way that eluded the assailant. He turned around and looked up. Under the dim moonlight, a large, dark shadow loomed above the roof of the two-storied school building.<br>Could that be… not Ivan…  
>He had no time to think. The shadow pointed its weapon at him.<br>Just to surprise him, Arthur threw the arrow at the shadow. But thanks to Arthur's gifts as a star shortstop, the arrow flew at incredible speed and traced a fine arc right at the shadow. The shadow groaned, held its face, hunched over, and then began to sway. Then it fell.  
>Arthur stepped back and watched the shadow fall down from a height of at least six meters and land with a thud on the ground. The object in the attackers hand fell with a metallic crash.<br>Light leaked through the building exit. The large shadow was lying face down, wearing a school uniform. It was Abel de Jaager (boy #11). He was motionless now, perhaps because he was unconscious. A hybrid between a bow and a rifle – weren't they called bow guns? - was lying by his hand. The day pack that had fallen by Abel's feet was half open. Arthur saw a stack of arrows inside.

He felt a sudden chill. It was true. He was participating! Abel de Jaager was in on this game. Abel had taken his weapon, returned here, and killed Bianca Maria  
>Lupul!<p>

He saw that Francis, still in the entrance, was significantly paler now. Perhaps it was because of blood loss, but perhaps it was because of what he had just witnessed.  
>He staggered towards Bianca Maria's body and checked her pulse. He looked up at Arthur and said "She's dead."<p>

* * *

><p>Arthur's brain felt like a fuse fizzling out. Others might have the same state of mind as Abel. And one of them might just suddenly return this time, maybe with a gun.<br>Arthur had no choice but to change his attitude towards the game. So this is how things are. When Roma said "As soon as you leave here", this is what he meant.  
>Arthur went towards Francis and grabbed him by the hand. "We're running! Do your best, we have to run!"<br>Arthur began running, half dragging Francis, whose leg was still very much injured. Which way though?  
>He couldn't afford to deliberate over his decisions. He headed towards the woods. First they'd hide in the woods, then they could, no – he dismissed the thought. Given Francis' condition, they were defenseless against any attack. Staying near the area was too dangerous.<br>Waiting in front of the building for the others was completely out of the question. He rushed Francis, and they entered the woods. Tall trees mixed in with short trees, and the ground was covered with fern.  
>Arthur turned to yell some warning to the remaining 16 students, but he gave up on the idea. Arthur reached the somewhat forced conclusion that they probably weren't as foolish as him and Francis, so they'd flee the moment they emerged from the building anyway, especially after they saw Bianca Maria Lupul's corpse. For a moment he thought about looking for Ludwig Beilschmidt, but then remembered Francis' leg. Once again he forced himself into believing that there had to be some sort of strategy, another way for them to meet up. In any case, they had to leave.<p>

* * *

><p>Holding Francis Bonnefoy tightly, he haphazardly led their way into the woods. A bird cried out, "kaw kaw", and ruffled its wings as it flew away. He couldn't see it, but it didn't matter. He had no time to observe it anyway.<p>

**39 players remaining.  
><strong>

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><p><strong>A\N: Hey guys!<br>Sorry for uploading this fairly late (at least at my time zone...)  
>Hopefully you've enjoyed this update!<strong>

**Please please please review. I live for feedback.**  
><strong>Next week there will be no update since I'm on a school trip, but if I return alive I'll probably do a double update ^^<strong>  
><strong>See ya!<strong>


	10. The Game- Part 2

_I own nothing but the OCs and this story. _

* * *

><p><strong>The Game – Part 2<strong>

Abel de Jaager regained consciousness about five minutes after he hit the ground, but because he'd been knocked out cold by the blow to his head he felt as if he were coming out of a deep slumber.  
>The first thing he noticed was how his head was throbbing. He felt out of it. What was that? Was it from playing video games for too long yesterday? Which meant that yesterday was Saturday… or was it Sunday?... then today must be Monday, which means I have to be in school…. But what's the damn time… It's still dark… maybe… I can sleep for a few hours now…<br>As he sat up, the sky and earth rotating 90 degrees, an empty field unexpectedly spread out in front of him. There was a mountain beyond the field, shaped like a triangle, darker than the sky.  
>All of a sudden, everything came back.<p>

Roma, Mr. Okamoto's corpse, Abel's departure, discovering the bow gun in his day pack, his struggling up the thin steel ladder by the side of the building in order to reach the roof. Then how, due to the trouble he had loading his bow gun with an arrow, Francis Bonnefoy managed to escape his reach. And then…  
>He turned around and saw the girl in the sailor suit uniform lying there.<p>

It didn't exactly come as a surprise to Abel. After all, his name did mean Hunter. He didn't feel guilt over killing one of his classmates so much as it was fear. It might have resembled a gigantic billboard sign standing in the middle of a wasteland inside his mind. On the sign were letters of blood that read, "I'm going to kill you!" In the background his classmates held weapons such as axes and knifes.  
>Of course, killing your classmates was wrong, but when the game time had expired they'd all die anyway, so does it even matter?<br>In all truth, Abel did not want to die. It was that simple. He was petrified by any of his classmates who'd bare their teeth at him. Just think about it, you're surrounded by a swarm of assassins!

And so his choice to reduce the enemy as efficiently as possible wasn't motivated by rational thoughts, but instead from a deeper, primal fear of death. There was not need to discern your allies from your enemies. Everyone had to be an enemy. They were all jerks anyway.  
>Abel scrambled to his feet. First, Arthur Kikerland, who'd been in front of him. Where did he go? The bow gun. I have to get the bow gun! Where did it-<br>Abel felt a blow against his neck as if he were struck by a club.  
>He fell forward with a thud. His body twisted into the shape of a V, and his face scraped against the moist soil.<br>The skin of his forehead and cheeks peeled away but this no longer mattered to him. He was already dead by the time he'd fallen.

The same kind of silver arrow which he had shot Bianca Maria Lupul with was now planted in the back of his neck.

* * *

><p>Emil Steilsson (Boy #15) emerged from the building two minutes after Saya Nakamoto (Girl #14). He stood at the exit for a while, thinking. The bow gun lying next to Abel de Jaager's body was still loaded with an arrow. Although Emil did pick it up he did not, however, plan on shooting Abel. But the moment Abel stood up, he reflexively pulled the trigger.<br>Emil did his best to overcome his panic. That's right, the first thing he must do is get the fuck out of this place. That was the priority. What he should have done in the first place was to ignore Abel de Jaager and Bianca Maria Lupul completely and run away. Given the circumstances, he had no other choice but to kill Abel. Abel de Jaager had obviously killed Bianca Maria Lupul. So Emil did nothing wrong! Whew, what a relief.  
>Emil was very good at making excuses. Once he thought like this, the numbness in his brain began to wane.<br>As he lowered to bow gun, he automatically grabbed Abel's day pack, which was loaded with arrows. Right before he moved on though, he stopped and picked up Bianca Maria Lupul's day pack as well.  
>Then he hurried off.<p>

**38 players remaining. **


End file.
